Forgetting the unintentional
by the-local-parselmouth
Summary: The war is over and scars are still fresh for everyone, not least of all Harry who has his own private hell to face in the form of his memories. When those memories become impossible to ignore and new information regarding Draco comes to light Harry is in for a rough ride. Warnings: Slash, MPreg, mentions of past non-con. This will be a Drarry but it will be slow building.
1. Chapter 1

This fic will contain MPreg, slash and mentions of past non-con. If those are not your thing then please turn back and consider yourself warned. I do not own Harry Potter because if I did there would be a lot more slash. :)

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The relentless tempo of the rain beating its tattoo on the worn roof of The Burrow was the sound that Harry awakened to on that early Autumn morning. He had been deep in, a thankfully dreamless, sleep until the steadily increasing beat cut through the fog of slumber and drew him to a sudden wakefulness that had him groaning into the pillow.

He had never been one to wake slowly(What with the Voldemort induced nightmares and the nightmares of the natural kind he is used to waking up abruptly) however until that day he had never left the bed at such a speed as the one he managed when he sprang from his sheets and ran across the empty hallway, slamming into the bathroom and dropping to his knees on the cold tile to immediately empty the contents his stomach into the porcelain bowl.

Vomiting is never a pleasant experience but vomiting in the morning is particularly loathsome and for a while it seemed like it would never end as he continued to retch until he physically couldn't be sick anymore. Due to stress he had been avoiding meals of late and as such there was never much in his stomach. Once his retches finally ceased and he was left with his swimming vision and his fever he pressed his sweaty forehead onto the freezing porcelain, glad for its cold ceramic kiss.

He had no idea how long he stayed like that, wishing more than anything that he had never woken up but eventually a large and calloused hand dropped onto his bare shoulder startling a jump from his exhausted body. "easy mate its only me, are you ok?" came a the very familiar voice of his best friend and Harry felt his body relaxing again. He was not sure that he could answer, too scared that if he opened his mouth again his body would take it as an invitation to begin the Vomiting once more.

It did not seem that Ron required an answer however as after a short pause he continued to speak, his tone low and laced in brotherly concern "Hermione told me she caught you throwing up yesterday as well mate, whats wrong? are you sick? you have been looking paler than usual".

Harry didn't know who Ron was talking to, him or himself as he continues to whittle on and to be honest he was growing annoyed. Yes he has kept being sick recently but he was sure that he was just coming down with a bug, everyone gets them and he had heard that they tend to attack when you are feeling low.

What with the end of the war and so many deaths to contend with it all fitted and he saw no reason to question it, all he needed was rest and plenty of fluids. The raven haired teen shivered at the thought that he might have to go and see a healer, if there was one place on earth he hated it was hospitals. So sterile and quiet, almost as if they are trying to remind you of how much death takes place within that buildings four walls.

Gathering himself Harry finally sat up properly, the area of the toilet bowl he had been pressing his head against was just as warm as his feverish skin by now anyway and the action was redundant. Wiping away the lingering spit from his mouth with the back of his hand he grimaced and resolved to brush his teeth as soon as he stood up.

Turning wide, red rimmed eyes on Ron he cleared his throat and then began in a somewhat hoarse tone "I'm fine Ron, I'm probably just getting the flu or something and I need to sleep it off, I've been developing the symptoms for a while".

The concerned redhead looked doubtful at the explanation. He would be more than happy to let Harry have his wish and sleep it off but he knew Hermione would kill him if she found out that he had found their best friend throwing up and not told her, she was always so worried about Harry and protective of him these days and to anger her by neglecting Harry's health would be a near fatal mistake.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with one rough hand Ron replied in an apologetic tone "I think you should see a healer, if this has been going on for a while... it could be anything". He had never been good at this sort of thing and for a moment he curses the fact that it had to be him finding Harry like this and not his mum or Hermione.

Having expected Ron to take the excuse at face value Harry's face fell into lines of shock that he quickly tried to hide so as to not offend his friend. " honestly Ron, I don't need to see a healer, they will just tell me its the flu and send me home". He tried desperately.

Ron was , by now, feeling immensely uncomfortable with the situation and it showed in his posture. He hated being the one to have to tell people what to do when they didn't want to do it, it just wasn't his style. He could demand that Harry go and see a healer but that would just be to weird- he can't let him carry on like this, getting iller and iller though and so he decides on a compromise "fine, we'll go and see mum and if she says you have to go then you have to go ok?".

The dark haired teen groaned and allowed his head to fall back onto the rim of the toilet, too tired to hold it up any longer. He knew that Molly would certainly make him go to St. Mungo's - ever since the war ended a few months ago she had been treating him as though he were made of finely spun glass and she would not allow something like this to go unchecked. There was nothing he could do, however, to stop Ron from telling his mum except beg and as a last ditch effort he decided to try.

" please? you know how i feel about hospitals and I'll definitely have to go there if you tell your mum. You know how she's been recently" He stopped himself before he ended up accidentally saying something offensive about Mrs Weasleys overbearing nature.

He could see the redhead think it over, consider it and almost give in before he grimaced and said "sorry mate no can do, Hermione will have my head if she finds out". This was true, Harry knew but he could not stop himself from feeling a childish stab of betrayal.

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An hour later and Harry found himself feeling much the same way but in a different location, one of the many healers offices in St. Mungos. The room was painted in a green so light it was almost white and was almost totally devoid of decoration, besides on family photo that sat on the desk of the rather severe looking healer with what Harry assumed to be his wife and child. The adults in the photo barely moved, looking at Harry with stern expressions as the child wiggled in its mothers arms.

It was during his perusal of the photo that the healer returned to the room, looking as stern in life as he did in the photo. The man appeared to be in his early forties, his hair (what was left of it) was a dark black streaked with copious amounts of grey and his face was long and pinched, full of sharp angles.

The angular face reminded Harry of someone, or more likely a family of people- all people that he would rather forget and he forcefully tried to crush and batter away the memories as they tried to rise up, threatening to envelop him in a sheet of the iciest panic. He could smell the blood that had been in the dungeon room, his own, and he could faintly hear the screams and cries of the Malfoy's other prisoners- all of a sudden oxygen seemed in incredibly short supply and his throat was closing up until a surprisingly kind voice cut through the abyss of memories "Mr Potter?".

That voice, he used it as a Centre, he wasn't in the dungeons anymore, he was in the healers office and Voldemort was dead, The Malfoy's awaiting trial. He was safe. He repeated that word over and over to himself, safe, safe, until finally he calmed and his vision swam back into focus.

Now that he could see again he came face to face with a very concerned looking man, the healer, who was looking at him with worry, his wand in his hand, and standing as though he were just about to act. Harry gave him a weak smile and rushed to try and explain " I'm sorry... sometimes... I... its the memories" He couldn't seem to articulate an explanation but the Healer seemed to get it and he shook his head, signaling that Harry need not say anymore. He was grateful as he was not sure whether he would be able to keep the panic at bay this time and he took one last calming breath as the healer sat elegantly in his seat.

" Now Mr. Potter I'm Healer Martin and now that we have you calmed could you please explain to me what it is that bought you here in the first place?" Harry began to talk, reeling of his list of symptoms and answering questions when they were asked. Healer Martin proved to be the very contradiction of his appearance and a very nice man. He listened to each detail that Harry would tell him and then ask appropriate questions, never prying more than he had to.

By the time Harry had finished with his explanation of symptoms the mans previously smooth brow was furrowed into deep lines that suggested puzzlement, his eyes slightly distant as he appeared to think over the options. Eventually his brown optics snapped back into focus and he said " Mr Potter, if you wouldn't mind I would like to run some tests that would be easier if you were lying down, do you think you could make your way over to the bed?".

By this point the teen was growing worried, if it were a simple flu or bug Martin would have known immediately and sent him away with a course of pepper up's wouldn't he? so what was it ? why was it that he was currently making his way over to the plush bed where he lay down as the healer ran his wand over him, chanting the occasional spell, each of which seemed to make a different colored ball of light appear.

At the appearance of a pale yellow bubble of light somewhere near his abdomen the mans dark eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he repeated the spell again, and again, apparently making sure that the result had been correct. After the third casting determined the same result he lowered his wand, turning to look at Harry with a look of pure bewilderment. "Mr potter- Harry. Perhaps you should come and sit down".

He said kindly and by now Harrys head was full of the possibilities, was he dying? ' oh Merlin I have something terminal' he thought. 'Or perhaps Voldemort got a final curse in before he died and it was slow acting'. It seemed unfair, that he should have carried out his duty, rid the world of the madman that was trying to kill him and now he would die due to his own body.

Sensing his thoughts the healer began to speak as soon as Harry was seated " there is no need to look quite so horrified Harry, you are not dying, it is merely something so rare that it has only occurred twice in the past 100 years".

For a moment the teen's panic continued until the words settled in and he was hit with a desperate hope " I'm not going to die?" he asked, not really able to believe it but when the healer shook his head confidently and Harry could see no lies lying in his eyes he sagged in relief, almost forgetting for moment that there was still something strange happening in his body.

Healer Martin waited for Harry to collect himself a little before clearing his throat and looking slightly awkward " There is no easy way to tell you this Mr Potter but sometimes in wizards there are genetic anomalies... no body knows what causes them, other than the fact that magic is involved but... there are changes that happen to the make up of the body, significant ones. I don't quite know how to tell you this, but you are pregnant". He finishes, again wearing a face of utter earnest fascination.

For a moment Harry wanted to laugh- it all seemed like on big joke and he actually began to laugh, the first notes slipping from his lips before he thought on what the healer said and remembered a story that Hermione had been telling him last year. He had only half been listening but he did know that it had been about a man back in the 50's who got pregnant and was shunned from society for it.

Suddenly all amusement died as quickly as though it had never been there and the only emotions Harry could feel were the sickeness and terror, leaking into him from every orifice and filling him until he couldn't breathe. He couldn't be pregnant, he refused to accept it- the only people that had ever... taken him were those beasts and he couldn't- oh Merlin.

Before the healer could blink Harry was gone from the room, running through the corridors unseeing as he tried to escape, get outside and find some air to fill his lungs. They felt empty, useless as he tried to draw in breath, his throat had closed up and he couldn't think, his stomach was filled with lead and the only sound he could hear was the rushing of his blood in his ears.

At least that was keeping the sound of the screams away, the sounds of the Death Eaters words as they pounded into his abused body again and again, one after another after another and it never seemed to end. He couldn't cope, he was going to die there he knew it and he only wished it would be quick.

His vision was filled with tears and there was a blackness creeping into the edge of his sight, he didn't know where he was anymore, all he knew were the memories that had consumed him and then suddenly blackness and he fell to the floor, unconscious.

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So, opinions? I have very clear ideas about where this is going and I'm excited about it so I would appreciate reviews and feedback please. Thank you very much :)


	2. Chapter 2

Unfortunately I don't know how regular updates to this fic will be as I have illnesses that strike at the oddest of times. I will try to keep it as often as possible though. I hope you enjoy :)

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The first sense that returned to him was sound. The sounds of hushed voices having a whispered and seemingly frantic conversation. He tried to focus on the words that were being said but all that he could make out was the occasional words that was used it so many sentences that it helped him decipher nothing, words such as ' He's' and 'but they're'. After five minutes of fruitless listening Harry finally decided that the time had come to open his eyes. He didn't even know where he was, the last thing he remembered was that he was at St Mungos and... 'Merlin! I'm pregnant'. The thought suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks and his bright verdant eyes shot open to the size of saucers.

Apparently his sudden waking did not go unnoticed by the healers, who were obviously the owners of the voices, and the conversation immediately ceased to exist. This made way for a silence that was positively oppressive in its weight. For a long moment both healers simply stared at him and then Healer Martin seemed to remember himself and rushed over to the side of the bed, The other, nameless, Healer gave Harry a sympathetic smile and then left the room. "Mr Potter, you gave us quite a scare, how are you feeling?" His voice was concerned and kind and Harry found himself relaxing slightly.

"I- I think I'm ok." Was all that Harry could say but it was as far from the truth as you could get. He was in no way ok. That incident, that night with the Death Eaters that Harry had not allowed himself to think about even once since it happened, the night that had played over and over again in his nightmares ever since it happened, had resulted in him becoming pregnant and no he knew without a doubt that he would never be allowed to forget it.

Never mind that fact that until this day he had thought it impossible for men to get pregnant but that was a whole other point that added to the overwhelming sea of panic that now swam in his head. Healer Martin gave him an understanding look but this only served to anger the raven haired teen. How could he understand? He had no idea what it had felt like to have all of their hands over him, touching every part of him over and over again- the parts that had never been touched by another- to have them laughing, clawing at him, beating him and finally forcing themselves inside him over and over and over until he couldn't cry anymore, all of his tears were shed, he had no longer pleaded- just lay in silence and prayed for his death.

The dark cloud that lingered over his thoughts was seeping into the atmosphere in the room and it was obvious that the Healers had no idea how to deal with this. Breaking into the destructive thought pattern of the boy Healer Martin said "You fainted, that is understandable, after all I bet that you were unaware men could get pregnant. You've had a big shock and once we are done here you need to go home and rest."

Harry nodded along with his words, even though he didn't think he'd ever be able to sleep again. He had so much to think about, there was the matter of who was the other father (and didn't that thought make Harry want to throw up) and the matter of whether he was going to keep the child. He didn't think he could kill something, a living being that grew inside him but how would he ever look at the child, his child, without remembering the pain and humiliation he had suffered at the hands of its father?.

"Now, Mr Potter, there are a number of options that we must discuss and a number of things that I need to tell you before you leave, do you think you will be ok to sit now?" This, is another reason Harry had always hated hospitals, he hated being treated as an invalid, as someone who couldn't even carry out the simple operation of sitting just because he had done something that had landed him in a hospital. This wasn't the healers fault though and so Harry swallowed down his annoyance and nodded, pushing himself up to lean against the unforgiving metal headboard. This was all a bit overwhelming and he couldn't find any words so he simply stayed silent.

Looking a little uncomfortable In his patient's continued silence Healer Martin cleared his throat and yet again began to speak "As for the options, there are three main ones to consider. Of course the first is that you keep the baby, that is self explanatory. The second is a termination, we would book you an appointment today and in a few weeks time you will return for the termination. At the moment you are still at an early enough stage for it to be completed with a series of fairly painless potions.-"

He had been about to continue but upon hearing it said like that ' a termination' having those words said to him and to have the baby spoken about as though it were an object, a parasite to be gotten rid of didn't sit right with Harry and so he interrupted " That isn't even an option, I don't think I could do it" He took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could manage "this baby didn't ask to be put here". He was convincing himself as much as he was the Healer. The baby was an innocent in this and couldn't be killed.

"Very well, The third option is that you have the child but then hand over custody to the ministry upon which time the child will be taken into an orphanage and hopefully adopted." He finished his offering of the options and his face remained professionally clear, unreadable, as if he did not care which option Harry took.

The possibility of putting the baby into an orphanage was just as horrific to Harry as the thought of an abortion. Before he could even consider it thoughts of Tom Riddle creeped unbidden into his mind. He couldn't help but remember how the orphanage had seemed in Dumbledore's memories of it and he couldn't stop thinking of how different Tom could have been had he not been forced to grow up there. He was treated like a freak because of his magic and the teen could not force his child into that life when it had one parent who was perfectly alive.

Why did it have to be Harry that always made such difficult decisions? It wasn't fair, he always felt like he had other peoples lives resting on his shoulders and he was tired of it, exhausted beyond all belief. Sometimes, what he wanted more than anything, was to go to sleep and never wake up. That would be the easiest thing, there would be no more decisions, no more nightmares and no more memories, just oblivion and it called to Harry like the most entrancing Siren. He couldn't have that though, no, he had far to many responsibilities as the public hero.

Bitterness, was swelling in his heart and leaving a sour taste in his mouth and so yet again he stamped on his thoughts, extinguished them so that they could no longer distract him. With the dismissal of two of the three options that left only one and Harry was faced with the reality that, like it or not, he would be keeping this baby. He nodded to himself, he could do this, he had time. "This baby is mine Healer and I don't think that I could make it grow up without either of its parents when I know what that was like.".

The Healer nodded along with this as though he has expected it and then his face took on a rather uncomfortable expression as he said "of course, there is the matter of the other father- your partner?". Harry paled, he had known of course that the other father would have to be mentioned at some point but that did not make it any easier to deal with.

Shaking his head vehemently Harry said " The other father, I don't know who he is" He was a worried that this would present the image that he was some kind of man whore who slept around ever day of the week but better that than to admit the way in which he had become pregnant.

At this the healer looked even more uncomfortable and he let out a loud breath through his nostrils "ah" was all he said at first as he walked over to his desk, picking up a sheaf of parchment and reading it over before coming back over to Harry and perching on the edge of the bed, meeting Harry's eyes.

"You see Mr Potter, many years ago there were problems with developing a paternity spell that would not harm the child it was being cast on, it was a problem to do with the actual making of the spell. We could not formulate such a spell without it being attached to another to give it a Centre and ensure a painless casting. The spell that it was decided to be attached to was the very spell to determine whether a person is pregnant or not". There he stopped talking, allowing Harry to reach the conclusion of what this meant for him slowly.

He thought it over, so the paternity spell was attached to the pregnancy test, and Healer Martin looked incredibly uncomfortable so that meant..." You know who the dad is?" Harry said, unable to keep the despair from his tone. He didn't want to know, he didn't think he could handle the information. To know which of those beasts had impregnated him would only make him see the resemblance of the father in the child all the more.

Those were his initial thoughts, however, it then occurred to him that one day the child might wish to know its dads name. What if the dad had any medical problems in his family that would effect the baby? he would need to know. Also there was the small matter of the fact that the dad could be one of those that were dead or waiting for trial. Slowly Harry realised that he had to know this, he could not live with the fact that he had been so close to knowing and yet he didn't. Closing his eyes and drawing in deep, gulping breaths Harry said" could-c-could you tell me please?".

There was a long moment in which the healer stayed silent as he looked at Harry, seemingly measuring weather the teen would feint again once he knew but he had to tell him, it was his obligation as a healer and so he opened his mouth and said two words which changed Harry's whole life " Draco Malfoy".

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Well, that was a shock but please stick with it, I promise this will be Drarry! This chapter was a fair bit shorter than the first but this felt like a natural place to end it. Please review and give me your thoughts on this chapter :)


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